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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662738">Long Live the King</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuildGlines/pseuds/BuildGlines'>BuildGlines</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuuin no Tsurugi | Fire Emblem: Binding Blade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Gen, Minor Original Character(s), Near Death, Old Age, Post-Canon, Short One Shot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:40:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>421</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26662738</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuildGlines/pseuds/BuildGlines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A once great king reminiscences about the past on his deathbed. Contrained to his fate, he never would of known that the past was coming to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Long Live the King</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Get ready to read a small one-shot based upon the sadistic imaginations of my mind.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He coughed again. His body seemed to have given up, like his eyesight did years ago. Even still, his mind was fully awake, making the decisions and actions that he knew would set his people on a prosperous path.<br/>
A small cough, followed by a chuckle. He knew he'd go to an early grave, plenty of plots and threats were thrown against him. Several times his sovereignty and his capability were challenged. Several poisons he ingested, several wounds he took, all meant to send him into the dirt.</p><p><br/>
And yet, here he laid, succumbing to the killer of them all; time.</p><p><br/>
He rested his head back on the pillow, which had formed a perfect shape of his withering, graying hair. Sighing to himself, his thoughts soon drifted to his friends and colleagues he had left behind.<br/>
He did not know where they were, and he would never know. Most of the country was run by his Regent, Percival. The only time he was ever visited was from, at most, three unique people. His Regent, his personal servant, and the Elimine Cleric who counted down his days.</p><p><br/>
He didn't mind the lack of visitors. He knew the days of King Myrddin were coming to a close. He had done what he desired to do, what his father would have desired him to do. He would soon become a page in the history books, only known in words and art.</p><p><br/>
The small creaking of a wooden door was heard, interrupting his inward thoughts. The door that led to his coffin in the entrails of his life, opened slightly. Yet, he would not know who came in- until they spoke.</p><p>“Milord, you have a visitor…”</p><p>This was an odd occurrence. Never before had 'she' brought a visitor into his tomb. Normally it was his Regent who brought them in, and even then, it was barely anybody at all.</p><p>“Very well. May I ask who it is?”</p><p>“Milord… I think its better if…”</p><p>It was not like her to sound so solemn. Characteristically, she was always in a slight amount of mourning, knowing the one she had served for decades was about to expire. But it was the tone of her voice…</p><p>“Elffin?”</p><p>A new voice. One he did not think he'd of thought to ever hear again. The voice of innocence, and beauty. A voice he thought had forgotten about him, like so many others. A voice, one that only knew him by his fake name.</p><p>“Is… Is that you, my cute little lady?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey Sayu, hope you enjoyed this and I can hear your heart bursting from here.<br/>Hey everyone else, I'm the kind of person who'd write about Fae seeing all of her human friends wither and die to age</p><p>I'm not sorry</p><p>If enough people like this, I can continue it for even MORE ANGST</p></blockquote></div></div>
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